Love Lockdown
by xLix
Summary: I know what is wrong with the world: We forget. To feel, to speak up, to reconsider. To forgive. Emily's eyes are full of rage these days. They don't speak of love like they used to. Naomi can't stand it - she never could. What is she going to do to handle the situation? She's trying to be brave - in her own, unique way. Companion to "Coming Home". AU. Naomily!
1. Chapter 1: Giving you up

Chapter 1: Giving you up

**A/N: Welcome to my new story in the Skins universe. I just can't let go, it seems. This idea is a follow-up of my one-shot "Coming Home", which can be seen as a companion to this ff, a piece of back story, if you will.**

**I hope you will enjoy this story. I am looking for a beta - considering I am not a native speaker and could use some assistance ;) So maybe one of you, dear readers, wants to help?**

**Please let me know what you think of this.**

_Be scrupulously truthful, even if the truth is inconvenient, for it is more inconvenient when you try to conceal it._

_-Bertrand Russell_

* * *

><p>She sat on the couch, her eyes firmly fixed on the TV in front of her, which was bathing the room in a soft blue hue while a documentary about the North Pole was running. Nighttime TV programming. Environmental issues. Perfect, right? The flickering images, however, passed her by in a flurry while her mind was somewhere else. With <em>someone<em> else. Where was Emily? It had become a common occurrence these days for Naomi to wake up in the middle of the night to find her girlfriend – did she dare think of her this way? – gone from their shared bed. They didn't talk about it. Naomi knew she wasn't brave, in fact, Emily herself had once dared her to be brave for once, but it seems like cowardice had become an inherent trait of hers. She'd never bring it up.

How could she, really? Was she supposed to ask, _Emily, where have you been? I was worried!_

She'd, at the very least, receive a glare, a sneer, a hurtful remark. At the worst, it might push Emily over the edge. It might cause her to finally wake up and realize what she, what they had been doing. It might be the final straw and then there would be no more Emily and Naomi. They'd be separated again, no longer forming one. What Naomi feared the most, though, was that it would be no clean cut. It would be a messy affair, tearing them completely, leaving them all roughed up at the edges where they were once fused together in a perfect fit, leaving them broken. It was all she had ever feared, being left a shallow carcass, all the life having been sucked out of her. She never wanted to be one of these broken people, yet she was close to fall into the abyss, grasping helplessly for anything she could hold on to.

_I'll do anything._

The words never left her, not during the day and not even in her sleep. Never did they weigh heavier, though, than at those times in the dead of the night, when she was lost, sitting alone, longing for Emily.

When she had written those words, she'd meant every single letter. She was prepared to do whatever it took for Emily. She loved her. She hadn't realized the extent of that love until it was all too late. That's what is wrong with human beings, isn't it? They rarely notice it if they are happy. They don't value those moments of pure bliss the way they should be cherished. Sometimes, all it would take is to pause for a moment and say "This is nice. I am happy." Not aloud, it doesn't have to be. What's important is that you acknowledge it, in your mind and heart, for yourself.

Naomi hadn't. She had remained silent, taking it for granted and then crushing under the burden of her own fears fighting the fleeting moments of happiness she was fortunate to experience with Emily at her side.

The sound of a distant ambulance siren made her snap back into reality. She looked around the room. It was a place so familiar and yet so foreign to her without Emily in it. The pictures on the walls, the boxes and clothes, hers and Emily's, everything lying around haphazardly. It was quite a mess, but she had grown accustomed to it. There was something oddly comforting about the disorganized state of their shared living space. It mirrored their insides.

She saw Emily's diary – worn leather - on the little table that was besides the couch, in plain sight. It was a reminder of the trust they used to share. She'd once taken pride in the fact that she had never even tried to read it. She didn't feel like reading it now, either, but for a whole different set of reasons. She was afraid of what she might find. She was afraid of how much power these words could have, what degree of destruction could follow.

They had made this place everything it was, a nice, cozy haven for the two of them, together, but now there was no _we_ anymore, and it was her fault. True, Emily hadn't moved out, but despite the physical proximity they had most of the time, sleeping, even, in the same bed, it all did nothing to bridge the distance that was between them in their minds and their hearts.

It was only when a hot tear fell on the top of her hand, the one she was forcibly clutching the blanket with, that Naomi realized she was crying. Her tears proved to be of no comfort. For every tear that left her eyes, relieving her of its burden, another surge of pain would curse through her chest. She made no attempt to dry her tears, instead letting them run freely down her face. She was well past caring about her appearance.

"Fuck. Emily…" she whispered to herself, her voice breaking on those two words. "I'm so fucking sorry. Oh God." She began to tremble and couldn't control herself, letting out strangled sobs.

It had been so much work, hard work, done mostly by Emily, to get to where they had been. To get _together_. It was thanks to Emily that she could look back on memories she knew she'd treasure forever. Emily had expanded her - until then, remarkably little - world for her, showing her wide possibilities and making her feel like she could do anything as long as she had her by her side. Her world had thus grown, become an all-encompassing bubble where she'd been safe and loved and, yes, _happy_. Her world had become a saner place, a better place than it was before it had Emily in it, that she could say for sure. And then she, Naomi, had to tear it all down. Her fears had made her demolish everything they had had together, crush Emily and destroy herself while at it.

The redhead had been patient, prepared to take as much time as it took to be a teacher to her. She had taught her to let herself be loved, and to love. She had taught her that letting yourself go, trusting another person with your heart, wasn't going to hurt her.

Naomi laughed bitterly at that, the sound mingling with the sobs that hadn't stopped erupting from her throat. It was a pathetic sound and it represented everything she felt about herself. Bitter, sad, _wrong._

Emily had been right. By trusting the redhead, she hadn't been hurt. Emily had kept her promise, had kept her safe. It had been the other way around, actually. She had done exactly what she had always feared the most about letting herself love someone, the reason why she fought it so hard. Letting yourself be vulnerable, giving up control, giving the other person so much power over you that they could hurt you like no one else could. Yet sweet and noble Emily had been brave enough to trust her since the very beginning.

It was then, in that moment, that Naomi realized it. They weren't _anything_ anymore. She had to stop it. She had to try to save Emily, and maybe, just maybe, save herself too while she was at it.

She couldn't go on, _they_ couldn't go on the way they had been these past weeks.

**An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.**

Everything about that was wrong. They were hurting each other, **deliberately** hurting each other. Emily had been punishing her for her cheating, and she'd understood, craved it even, her own guilt threatening to drown her.

Every injury had to be avenged. Every touch and kiss she might have shared with Sophia had to be punished accordingly. She had to be punished. She would be very sorry for what she'd done, that was what Emily's eyes said to her these days. They didn't speak of love like they used to.

It wasn't the insults or the slaps that pained her the most, though. Just knowing, realizing that their love had become tainted with revenge was what was breaking her heart. It was poisoning them from within, and they were both succumbing to the lure of getting even.

The thing is, taking revenge only provokes revenge which provokes resentment which, in turn, provokes contempt — it was a never-ending cycle of pain that would not stop breaking them both, each time a little more. No punishment would ever be enough if they kept trying to hurt the other back for everything, always adding a bit more pain, almost competing: Who could destroy the other and come out of it alive?

Naomi realized with a start that "I'll do anything" meant exactly that. _Doing_ anything and everything. She'd thought grand gestures would get her Emily back, but now she knew it wasn't going to work. _Anything_ had to be something else.

So Naomi decided to be truthful. She had to let it all out.

* * *

><p>She grabbed a clean sheet of paper, clutched a pen and set to writing. Her hand was shaking so badly she had to start over after blotching the first attempt. A fresh page, another try.<p>

_Dear Emily,_

_I love you. I need you to know that, don't ever forget it. I know I haven't shown you this enough, in fact, I know that what I did _– _I mean, I hurt you when I - _

She had to interrupt herself. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to muster the courage to continue. She knew she had to get to the point, had to be honest. Never would she have imagined it to be that painful. She had to plow through. She owed Emily that. She owed her the whole truth. Ripping the paper and throwing the pieces carelessly away, she began anew.

_Emily,_

_I love you. Please, never forget it. No matter what I did, no matter what happened, I never stopped loving you. I can't - I couldn't stop loving you even if I wanted to. It's not the best way to start this letter, I reckon, for everything that happened, but it's the most important thing I have to tell you. _

_I want to ask for your forgiveness, all I want to do is try to make you understand how sorry I am, but I don't think we can just leave it at that. I know you can't forgive me just like that, I know this – what I did, cheating on you, isn't something that can be fixed by a letter or some words. It is the greatest mistake I made in my whole life. Not only because I _cheated_, but because I cheated __**on you**__. I cheated on us. I killed what we had with the one night where I lost everything I held dear: my principles, my sense of self, you, and us. I lost everything, and I can't, for the life of me, figure out why and how. I can't fix it, and no matter how much we love each other, how much I love you, I don't think it can be fixed the way we have been trying to. _

_I'm scared Emily. I've always been scared. You were right, you knew it. You always know, because you know me better than everybody else. I made you lose your faith in me. I made you hurt so much it tears my own heart apart when I think about how much I broke yours. _

_You leave me breathless, Emily, whatever you do. When we were still okay, when you looked at me with those eyes of yours, so full of love, I couldn't breathe because I was so happy – but I was also scared. I was scared of the power you had, and still have, over me. You are the one person that has seen me at my most vulnerable, and I love you for it. I promised myself that I'd be completely honest in this letter, so I have to tell you everything. I love you for being the person that can make my day just by looking at me, but I also resent it that you can break me if you so desire. Don't think it is because I don't trust you – because I do – but it's something I can't help feeling. I spent my whole life protecting myself from getting hurt, and then you stepped into my life, effortlessly tearing my walls down - walls that had taken years to erect. I was a fool for thinking I could protect myself from your love. I am sorry. I realize now that I don't need protection from you. From everything else, maybe, but not from __**you**__. _

_You still leave me breathless. I feel like I am suffocating. You have been punishing me and taking revenge, and I could never hate you for it, but it is so painful I can't help but leash out back at you. We have been hurting each other so much, and I know it's my fault. I know I made you become a person you never wanted to become. I don't think I can put it into words; how that thought makes me feel. I feel like I have corrupted you, Emily, and it makes me hate myself. I am scared. _

_I need you, I feel so lonely without you. I realized that, whatever happens, I need to know that you exist in my world. In this world. That's the reason why I am writing this letter. _

_We are constantly fighting these days, fighting about little things, fighting mostly about my cheating. It seems like we hate each other, but that's not true. I love you, and I hope that you, at least, don't hate me. Yet. _

_I think we're fighting because we are both lonely. It's all about loneliness. You are here, with me, you still live here, but I can't help but feel more alone than I have in all my life. It pains me so much to know that I did this. _

_I am rambling. I think you deserve to know what I'm scared of. Right now, my greatest fear is to lose you. I don't mean us breaking up. What I mean by that is that I fear you'll begin to hate me. You will begin to turn into a person that's but a shadow of your former self – of the Emily I know is still in there somewhere, the Emily I love and will love for the rest of my life. I don't want to be the one responsible for that. I know I've already damaged you so much, but I also know that you're still you. Emily. I see it in your eyes, when you think no one is looking and you let your guard down, when the angry scowl disappears. You are hurting so much, the way only a person that feels everything so intensely like you do can hurt. You always have felt more than other people... You are the most beautiful and noble person I've met in my life. Don't, I beg you, become a bitter and angry person, don't let go of yourself. I don't deserve you, I think I never did, and I am not worth it. I am not worth losing yourself over it. _

_I told you, I can't imagine a world without you in it. I need to know you exist; I need you more than anything I've ever thought I needed before. And this is the reason I'm giving you up. _

_I love you. I think I'll never really stop, but I know I have to go. I have to disappear before it is you who disappears. You didn't leave once you found out, you didn't give up. You are so brave, Emily. Now, it's time that I am brave, for once. _

_I don't know if we're ever going to be able to look at each other, talk again without bitterness and hurt and resentment clouding our emotions, I don't know if we're ever going to be okay. I hope we will. I hope this isn't the end. _

_I am so sorry._

_I'm giving you up, Emily. This is not me running. If I had to run, it would be straight into your arms, but if I did that, I would be slowly killing you, Emily. I've already started killing you, bit by bit, and it has to stop. I can't stand knowing that I am responsible for that. I see it in your eyes –there was always a blazing spark in them, and now it's nothing but a faint remnant of it. It's dull, darkened. It's still there, though. I want to fix it, and there's only one way to do that, to make the shadows disappear: I have to disappear._

_I need you to live and be, Emily. I need the Emily I know to survive all of this. I hope it's not too late for that. Never forget what a beautiful and precious person you are. I'm sorry that I forgot that myself, once. _

_I love you. Goodbye._

_Naomi_

* * *

><p>She felt cold once she had finished writing. Well aware that the letter wasn't exactly a literary masterpiece, she felt apprehension imagining how Emily would take it. She hoped Emily would realize it came from her heart. She hoped she wouldn't misunderstand everything. She hoped Emily wouldn't hate her.<p>

She had to leave, because she knew it was the only way to salvage the slightest possibility of a future friendship between both of them. To leave the door ajar, so that, one day, she might find a way to sneak in again. If she stayed, it was only a matter of time till the door shut forcefully closed, never to be opened again. Emily meant too much to her for her to risk it.

She had been completely honest. She needed Emily in her life. She needed to know that the redhead she loved was still there, somewhere, this nice, noble and beautiful person. If she couldn't be _with_ her, at least she would know that Emily was out there, somewhere, making the world a better place. Just like she had made Naomi's world a better place.

I'll do anything, she'd promised.

And she would do anything, because she loved Emily more than she'd ever realized. If **anything** meant getting up and leaving, if it meant not being in Emily's life anymore – for the sake of sparing them both, but especially Emily, the pain, then she would do it. Anything.


	2. Chapter 2: Pride is Anything but Rare

Chapter 2 Pride is Anything but Rare

A/N: Hello again! Thank you for following this story. It's really one I want to tell and I am glad to be able to share it with you.

I hadn't planned to update so quickly, but ... I got inspired by certain events today, so I sat down and finished the chapter. The next one will take a bit longer, for I have some exams coming up before christmas. I will try to work on the story during Christmas break.

_"I think the truth is that if you really care about the quality of somebody's life as much as you care about the quality of your own, you have it made."_

_- Edith Windsor_

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><p>The words were blurry and shaking in front of her. No matter how hard she tried to keep her hands steady, Emily was failing miserably, the letter being crumpled by her trembling hands.<p>

_She's gone._

The only thought that she was able to form in her mind, still baffled by the words she'd just read. Naomi was gone, had left her. And Emily had let her. They had been drifting apart for quite some time now, but she knew that it had been in her hands to put on the brakes. Yet, she didn't, hadn't put in the effort to try and stop them on their downward spiral. And now, Naomi had left, leaving her behind, leaving her _alone_. Utterly, completely alone. She felt the emptiness of the house, the place they had once upon a time called _theirs_ - as in, their place, their shared sanctuary. She felt it in her bones, a faint ache she couldn't exactly pinpoint but instead feel all over her body.

Emily had been fairly drunk before, when she'd come home in the wee hours of the morning, but she'd sobered up immediately after seeing the letter. After not seeing any trace of Naomi. She had expected to find her asleep on the couch; it had become a heartbreaking habit between the two of them. Emily would stay out as long as she wanted, doing whatever she wanted, and Naomi would be faithfully waiting for her to come back. She almost always fell asleep, though, so that they were both spared the pain of drunken slurs and confessions – of hate, or love, or anything, because it really didn't matter what they said to each other lately, it was always painful. Silence, on the other hand, was kind to them, allowing them to continue pretending.

Emily rubbed her tired eyes and tried to smooth her disheveled hair. She'd come home looking like she'd just been tumbling around in bed with someone, which, for the record, she nearly had. Whatever it was that made her stop when Mandy had sneaked her warm hand down her shirt, caressing her stomach, she didn't know. It's not like she thought Naomi deserved that she remained faithful to her, it was sheer luck, actually. Maybe she'd just had too much to drink. It wouldn't have been the first time.

She wasn't exactly looking for an opportunity to cheat back on Naomi, she really wasn't, but she wasn't trying very hard to avoid situations which could lead to said outcome either. It was a mess, this fine dance she'd been performing – never quite crossing the fine line between flirty banter and drunken making out which could be excused by the amount of booze and drugs in her system, and _real_ cheating, sex, frantic and final (the kind of cheating _Naomi_ had done, she always defended her actions to herself), but always stepping closer and closer to it. It was only a matter of time before she wouldn't stop herself any longer, poised in mid-air, and just fling herself into what, in her mind at least, promised her some comfort. It was more than that, Emily knew. If she cheated on Naomi, she would have something incredibly powerful to hurt her with. She knew it would tear her still-girlfriend apart. Did she want this? Emily couldn't say anymore. She didn't know herself.

Now the redhead was sitting where the blonde had been, hours before, drafting the very letter Emily had clutched in her hands. The one that left her feeling as if Naomi had ripped her heart out of her chest. The piece of paper was shaking, but Emily didn't notice. Her whole body was rocking and yet, to her, it seemed as if the world had stopped moving. As if everything had just _stopped_.

"Fuck. No, fuck," she whimpered. The tears were flowing freely. It had taken her half an hour to realize that Naomi was gone, that she had taken the most important things (surprisingly few, considering it was actually _her_ home, containing every single item she owned) she had with her, and that she wasn't coming back to her. Where had she gone? It was, after all, still her mother's house and, clearly, it was Emily who should have been the one to go. Yet, Naomi had left all her things untouched, as if she didn't mind Emily staying in this house. As if she couldn't bring herself to care about anything but leaving.

How was it possible that it hurt this much? The blonde had succeeded again in hurting her. Naomi was, as the redhead had had to learn time and again, very talented in the art of hurting Emily Fitch. She might be one of the people most skilled at this; she might even draw level with her mum.

"Fuck you. FUCK YOU, Naomi!" she yelled at nothing in particular. The house was empty and no one would even hear her anguish. She was truly alone.

The only thing that was comforting to her was that, this way, no one would hear her pathetic voice, attempting to shout out her anger. Attempting to drown out the sound of her pounding, breaking heart.

It was too loud, though.

* * *

><p>She waited, anxiously, for another voice to appear on the line. As if it were a lifebuoy, Emily had a tight grip on the phone. Her knuckles were already turning white from the lack of circulation. It was all she could hold onto right now. The beeping sound, informing her that a connection was being established, was strangely soothing. <em>Beep<em>. You don't have to be alone. _Beep_. She loves you. _Beep_. **Katie**, at least, loves you. _Beep_.

Then, she was forcefully brought back to reality. She hadn't even bothered to think about the time or what Katie might have been up to at this ungodly hour before she called. Shit. She'd just pushed through the fog engulfing her mind to dial her sister's number, knowing she needed it to stay afloat. Not to drown should the mist become denser, more liquid, a threat.

"What the fuck, Emily?" came Katie's tired voice over the phone that was currently pressed to Emily's ear. It was 4 a.m. in the morning and Katie had obviously been sleeping. Her lisp was far more pronounced than usually, something Emily knew happened when Katie had no absolute control over herself – when she was crying, drunk or right after waking up.

Emily didn't want to scare her twin, and she knew that if she opened her mouth, it would come all out – unchecked, uncontrolled – a mess, just as she was. It was all she could do to hold her sobs in, her breathing becoming ragged.

"Emily? Are you there?" Katie seemed to have caught on by now, and her tone had softened.

The redhead squeezed her eyes shut. Trying to force the tears that were threatening to fall back into her eyes. It didn't help. She couldn't hold back, her despair evident in her tone as she spoke.

"Katie…. I need you. I…she…Katie! Naomi – she left. She left _me_. Katie, she left me… Please…" Her voice died, but she hoped she'd said enough. Katie was her twin. She would understand. Who else could?

Emily could hear Katie breathing, the only sign that told her that her twin hadn't ended the call. For long seconds, there was not a single sound to be heard but that breathing. Breathe in – hold – breathe out. Emily tried to hold back her own labored breathing, but she sniffled and whimpered anyway.

"I'm on my way, Ems," she finally whispered. Her tone was subdued and unlike anything Emily would have expected. Where was the shouting? Cussing? Why wasn't she cursing Naomi Campbell, the girl who had managed to crush her sister's heart more times she could count, wittingly and unwittingly sometimes?

* * *

><p>Suddenly, she was five years old again. She had just fallen off her bike (which happened all too often at that age; she would never become good at riding a bike, that's for sure) and Katie, always the older and protective sister, had pulled her into a bear hug. She would have to stop crying eventually, but for the moment, having Katie holding her was enough. The tears that were cascading down her cheeks didn't matter, her scraped kneecaps didn't matter, nor did her pain. Having Katie with her was definitely enough.<p>

Emily didn't know when it all began to change. When she'd stopped being five years old and all of a sudden, Katie wasn't enough anymore. When did it all go to hell? Katie was holding her right now, both closer than they had been for a long long time, but it was not _enough_. The redhead clawed into Katie's pink sweater, inhaling her twin's smell, a smell that was achingly familiar and comforting. It used to be the most effective medicine for Emily. Just being with Katie.

"When did we start to grow up, Katie?" she sniffled into her neck, her voice huskier than normal. Rough. The situation was indeed a serious one, for Katie didn't even flinch. There was no snide remark about Emily 'ruining her sweater' or 'getting her snot all over her, ewww'. Instead, Katie pulled her even closer and wrapped her up inside her embrace. After everything that had happened, she was still the big sister.

"Life sneaked up on us, didn't it?" Katie was running her fingers through her sister's hair, her other hand drawing circles on the redhead's back. She wasn't a very skilled consoler (with her levels of practice, indeed not a surprise), she knew, but she'd try everything for Emily. Consoling Emily was familiar. It used to be something she was good at. Yet another thing that had changed with the passing of time. It always did – things changed, all the time, every time.

The younger twin was desperate. Naomi's departure had left her suspended in mid-air and she was waiting for the moment she'd crash to the ground. It was bound to happen. She tried to brace herself for the impact, thus, she'd called her parachute. It wasn't slowing her down as much as she'd hoped it would. Instead, the pull of gravity was merciless.

Emily's sobs were getting louder, she was gasping for air: "This is so fucked up, god. I feel like there's a hole in my heart. She's fucked me over, for real this time. I'm done. It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but I don't know what to do. I don't know if I can handle this…. Katie, please. Fix this. I can't…I can't… not without her."

Her words mingled together, becoming almost an incomprehensible mess, just like Naomi and Emily's relationship had become one.

The redhead felt the other girl shift at that. Katie pulled away very carefully and looked her right into the eyes. Her expression was serious and full of love. The whole sitaution was clearly affecting her more than Emily would have expected. While it wasn't _Katie_ Naomi just broke up with – scratch that, whom Naomi _broke_, period - she shared her twin's heartbreak to an extent that no other person on earth could. Still…

"Emily… You said it best, at the love ball last year. You are your own person. You're not me. I can't live for you, Ems. But I'm here. I'll always be here." She took her sister's hands into her own, trying to pass over some of her strength. Trying to give Emily the strength to carry on.

At least, the shaking in Emily's hands got better.

* * *

><p>Emily had finally fallen asleep after two more hours of silent crying. The sun was already peeking in through the closed shutters, casting a gloomy orange light into the room. Careful as to not to wake her up, Katie covered her with a blanket she'd found in Naomi's bedroom. Their <em>shared<em> bedroom. She had seen the distinct signs telling her that Naomi really was gone for good. She might not have been friends with the blonde, but that girl had been her twin's girlfriend and it had been enough to get to know her a bit (Emily, all loved-up and gushing about her _perfect_ lover didn't help, either) so that she knew what it mean when a certain photograph on the bed stand was missing. What significance it had that there were gaps in the normally tidy book collection in the corner.

It affected her more than she'd ever admit; Naomi's departure saddened Katie deeply. She would fight like a lion for her sister and she had; years and years of mockery and insults against the blonde could prove it. But she had come to accept Naomi – she knew the blonde loved Emily with all her heart and that, although the **only** thing they had in common, definitely meant something. And now, after months of pain and war and, Katie had to admit, punishment from Emily, who hadn't been always fair, Naomi seemed to have had enough.

She was strangely disappointed by that. No matter the circumstances, she had always thought that Emily and Naomi would make it. She knew true love when she saw it, but somehow, and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it, it had all gone to hell.

She let her gaze wander through the room. It almost looked like nothing had changed at all. The subtle clues, the tell-tale signs of Naomi's departure where even less pronounced here than in the bedroom. The little postcard from Rome Gina had sent recently seemed to have vanished, but despite that, everything had stayed the same. Seemed the same, for it couldn't me much more different – it seemed wrong: that nothing in the room reflected the big change that had come over them in the past hours. Surely, there had to be more visible signs of the chaos that was crashing into their lives like a tidal wave: unstoppable, inevitable. Yet, everything else stayed untouched by the force of the collision, it was only them who got drenched with pain.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a piece of paper, crumbled, near the rubbish bin. Her curiosity provoked, she made her way towards the dustbin. A quick glance at the words on the paper, blue ink on white, confirmed her suspicions. It was Naomi's handwriting. She could clearly see the blots of ink where tears had fallen onto the letter. Trust Naomi to go all formal and use freaking ink when normal people would use a ballpoint-pen. What a tosser. Katie scoffed, for a second forgetting about the whole predicament she'd found herself in. She was quickly brought back to reality, though, when she realized that something was off. Her slight smirk quickly turned into a grimace.

"What the fuck?" she whispered to herself. Emily hadn't mentioned anything about a letter, but then, she hadn't really talked very intelligible at all. She sighed. Chancing a look at her twin, she debated internally whether she should read the words that were clearly meant for Emily and only Emily.

Emily's face was more relaxed than it had been in a long time – sleep was the only escape she had from reality, and it made Katie impossibly sad to realize that. She had to smile when she saw her twin scrunch up her nose in her sleep. She looked almost happy. The dark clouds which were her constant companions during daytime had dissipated at last.

Katie made a decision: she had to _know_ what Naomi had written. In her defense, Katie had always been a curious person.

She had to know how it was possible that all had fallen apart. Maybe fucking Campbell and her ramblings could shed some light over the issue. It was not like Katie had great insight into their relationship anyway; Emily and her had grown apart in the last few months. She chanced a look at Emily one last time, making sure that she was really asleep and wouldn't see her going through her things. It wasn't her fault anyway, was it? She had clearly meant for the letter to land in the trash, so what difference would it make if she had a quick look at it, too? Exactly.

_Emily,_

_I love you. Please, never forget it. No matter what I did, no matter what happened, I never stopped loving you. I can't - I couldn't stop loving you even if I wanted to…_

After reading those first words, Katie's breath hitched. She sensed heartbreak ahead and for a moment, she didn't want to read on. It was pathetic, really – the letter wasn't supposed to make her feel anything, and yet her heart broke a little for Emily – and also, for Naomi.

Not that she would ever admit that out loud. Ever.

* * *

><p>There were tears in her eyes when she'd finished reading. She hated Naomi Campbell.<p>

"You are such a bitch, Campbell," she muttered under her breath. Truth was, Katie couldn't help but feel sorry for the blonde. She had seen very little of their life in the months after Emily found out about the cheating, but she'd seen enough to know that Emily hadn't spared her girlfriend any pain. And she was definitely not blind.

Naomi was right. Emily had been slowly disappearing, and it made Katie cry only harder when she realized how much her twin had changed.

"What have you turned into, Emily?" Katie whispered softly. She shook her head, not quite believing how much things had changed. When did it all go to shit?

_Don't let go of yourself. I don't deserve you, I think I never did, and I am not worth it. I am not worth losing yourself over it. _

These words made it nearly impossible for Katie to hate Naomi. She was hurting Emily by going away, but Katie understood. Naomi needed someone to hold her hand, too, but she had kept it all bottled up, trying to appease Emily. Her last act wasn't one of selfishness, she realized. Naomi had been selfless, perhaps more than in all her life before.

She could almost hear Naomi's voice in her head. _I need you to live, Emily. I need the Emily I know to survive all of this. I hope it's not too late for that._

Katie felt a rush of determination engulf her. **She** would make sure that Emily survived this. She would make sure Emily could heal, and even though the scars of this fight would never leave her, they would fade. And Emily would be Emily, her _Emily_, her twin, and things would go back to being okay once more. They had to.

The girl sat back down on the couch, as close to her sister as possible, who was still sleeping soundly, unaware of her surroundings. Dead to the world, as they say, and in that moment, it was for the best. Sleep could offer her a kind of comfort she wouldn't be able to find anywhere else in the world in her waking hours. Katie put a hand on Emily's, the one that was peeking out from the blanket covering her. It was warm and soft and Katie sighed.

She folded the letter neatly and put it in her purse. For safekeeping.

She squeezed the hand she was holding. Just like she'd hold onto Emily – for safekeeping.

* * *

><p><em>Tell me what you think?<em>


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